The Watchers
by Katkid
Summary: They're watching me. All the time. I can't get away from them. Please...somebody help me... Secluded in a small, white room, one of our beloved characters is slowly spiraling into insanity. Who is it? And can they escape...the Watchers? COMPLE
1. April 14

Hi. You don't know me. I'm new here, and I was hoping maybe you could show me around. You know, offer me a little friendly advice. Do you think you could spare a minute to do that for me?

My name is…you know what? I don't remember what my name is. You wouldn't happen to know it, would you? No, of course you don't. I guess that was a dumb question. It's not really all that important anyways, really.

Getting back to my main point, I'd really like some help if you could spare a minute. See, I don't really understand how all this is supposed to work. Those people led me here and told me to wait, but that was so long ago.

What people? Well, you know. Those people in the clean, white suits. No way you could miss them. I didn't know who they were. All I remember is that they brought me here and told me to wait. So I waited and waited and waited for them to come back. But they never did. I'm not sure how long I've been here, but it's been a long time. I think they've forgotten about me. Maybe you could remind them about me after we finish talking. That would be nice.

So anyways, I've been sitting here for so long, and I've been wondering: what happens after this? I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing here. In fact, I'm not exactly sure where here is. Do you know?

Don't tell anybody else, but between you and me, I'm a little scared. OK, I'm a lot scared. I don't like not knowing what's happening. It makes me nervous. So if you could just tell me what to expect, I'd really appreciate it.

You're not much of a talker, are you? I mean, I've done pretty much all the talking since we started this conversation. Don't be shy about interrupting. I won't be mad. Really. In fact, I'd be happy if you would. I don't like to feel like I'm talking to a brick wall.

Guess you don't feel much like talking. That's OK, too. After all, everyone's always talking about how important it is to be a good listener. That's one skill I never did master. You've probably figured that one out by now, though. I kind of tend to piss people off because I can't make myself shut up. If I'm bugging you, just tell me and I'll try to be quiet.

You know, I don't think I like this room much. No windows. I like to be able to see outside. I like to see the sun and the sky. I feel so smothered in here, not being able to see any of it. It'll be nice to get out of here. I hope they come to get me soon.

They should really hang some posters on the walls or give us some magazines to look at. It's kind of rude of them to leave us in this stupid room without anything to do. Oh, damn. I hope you didn't take that the wrong way. I wasn't saying you're boring or anything. I just meant that this room was too bare. That's all. I'm really sorry if I hurt your feelings.

I guess you're not too upset. You're still listening to me; or at least you're pretending to listen to me. That's fine. I'll be happy either way.

God, I wish I could remember my name. I wish I could tell you a little more about myself, but I don't remember anything. I don't think I could even tell you where I'm from or who my parents are. It's almost as though I never even existed. Like sitting here in this damn room is all I've ever done and all I'll ever do. You don't think that's true, do you?

Of course you don't. Jesus, I can't believe how weird I'm being. Of course I existed before this. I must have come from somewhere for Christ's sake! But where? Oh God, oh God…I just wish I could remember one little thing that I did besides come to this room. Anything would be fine. I don't care how insignificant it is, I just want to remember one thing!

What kind of sheets were on my bed? Where did I go to school? I must have gone to school…I don't think I'm old enough to have graduated yet, and I don't think I'm one of those "child prodigies." Who were my friends? Did I have friends? Or siblings? Pets? Jesus, why can't I remember?

Damn it, I'm starting to panic. Now I can't even remember what color my eyes are. I don't know what my face looks like, and my hair's too short to see what color it is. Or maybe it's just tied back. I don't know. Do you have a mirror that I could borrow for just a second? Please?

No, of course you don't. What was I thinking? Well, could you maybe tell me what color my eyes are? Or my hair? Or try to describe my face. And be honest! If I'm ugly, don't try to say I'm good looking. I won't get mad. Please, just tell me what I look like.

Why won't you talk to me, goddamn it?!? I'm really getting sick of doing all the talking! Please, just look at me and tell me what I look like! I'm begging you! I need to know. Please, please, please say something!

OK, fine. Don't talk to me. I'll just find someone else to talk to. Oh, goddamn it, I forgot. I can't get out of this room until they come back to get me!

Hello? Is anybody out there? Hey! Somebody please come and get me out of here! You can't just leave me in here forever!

Why doesn't anybody answer me? Somebody _answer me, goddamn it! _Don't leave me in here any longer! I…I can't take this anymore! LET ME OUT, YOU DAMN BASTARDS! WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?!? LET ME GO!

* * *

_April 14th. New subject acquired. This first test run was quite revealing. Not twenty-four hours had passed before I deemed the administration of narcotic drugs to be prudent. The patient was unable to restrain panic. I worried that the patient would suffer bodily harm. By the time the staff arrived, the patient was in a rage, throwing self against walls and screaming something horrible. It took four of our men to hold the patient long enough to administer sufficient dosage, as the patient was in such a fit. Patient is now asleep. Next test run to begin tomorrow morning, upon waking._

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I know, I know: I should be working on a new chapter for Starstruck. I will be updating that story soon, I promise. This little bugger wasn't even supposed to be a real story, but now it won't leave me alone until I finish it. So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Confused? Wondering who the heck the "patient" is supposed to be? Feel free to tell me in a review! 


	2. April 15

Hello? Is…is anybody there? I know you're there…I can hear you breathing. Look, about the whole thing back in the waiting room....I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean to hit you. I was just so afraid, and you wouldn't answer me and…and…never mind. I'm just sorry about it is all.

I guess you're pissed at me. That's OK. I'd be pissed at me, too if I were you. But even though you're pissed, do you think you could turn on the light? I can't see a thing and I don't like it.

Hey, are you still there? I'd really appreciate it if you'd give me some kind of a sign to let me know you're there.

OW! Oh, Jesus Christ that hurt! What did you do that for? What the hell was that? Where are you? What's going on? Hello? Are you going to answer me? Was that for hitting you earlier? I already said I was sorry, and I meant it!

Look, I really wish you'd turn on the light. I can't find the switch, and this darkness is really starting to screw with my head. If you would just—OW! Oh my God, why did you do it again? That really hurts! Whatever that was, please don't do it again.

I don't understand why you won't turn on the lights. I don't like not being able to see what's happening. It's makes me feel dizzy. Like I'm going to be sick. It's scaring me. This whole thing is really starting to scare the shit out of me. I…I want to know why I'm here. Can't somebody tell me what I'm doing here? Or how I got here? Or…or who I am, even? Please? Somebody?

OW! Stop shocking me! Goddamn it, that one was even worse than the last one. OW! What…are you trying to kill me? Stop doing that! What do you not understand about 'that hurts like a bitch', anyways?

Where is that damn light switch? I'm getting sick of just wandering around not being able to see. If you're going to keep shocking me, it would be nice to give me a fair chance to fight back, don't you think?

YAAHH! Why are you doing this? Leave me alone! ARRGH!

…

…

…

Oh my God. You're trying to kill me. You bastard. That one almost knocked me out. I…I couldn't breathe for a second. It made my lungs just stop…I couldn't move, either. Another of those and I'll die, you asshole! Please, just leave me alone.

NO! I know you're coming closer! Just stay away from me, and don't do that again! NO, NO, NO, NO! I SAID STAY AWAY FROM ME! HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME! GET ME OUT OF HERE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW! YAAAAAAAAAAH!

* * *

_April 15th. Second test run also quite revealing. Patient appears unable to stand silence. Constantly fills silence with words. Quite interesting indeed. Patient is currently unconscious. Hydration / nutrients to be administered intravenously overnight. Third test shall commence immediately upon patient's awakening.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Yes, it's short. But fear not! The next chapter will be quite a bit longer, and it will be posted soon (I just need to do a little bit of editing). As always, reviews / constructive critcism are greatly appreciated!_

Thanks to Silently Broken, shadowwaker, Speedy-anime-angel, moocow33, and Duelchick901 for reviewing the last chapter!


	3. April 17

Ugh. Oh, what the hell happened? Why do I feel so shitty? What—oh. I'm in that room again. Damn. I remember now.

Hey, where is everybody? Hello? Can anybody hear me?

_The patient sighed and rubbed a hand over aching eyes._

I guess nobody cares.

_Seconds passed and the minutes staggered by. The patient steadfastly waited, eyes darting about the room for a speck of dust on the floor, a crack in the wall, anything that might distract from the awful silence that hung chokingly thick in the air. _

_The room was a sterile, apathetic white. White walls, white ceiling, white tile floor. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Just a cube-shaped prison that the patient was trapped in._

HEY! I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE! SOMEBODY ANSWER ME! YOU BASTARDS! YOU GODDAMNED BASTARDS!

_The patient waited for a response, even the slightest acknowledgement that somebody had heard the outburst. The only sound to be heard was the momentary ringing echo of the shouting. The sound faded, as though it had been sucked into the crisp, white walls by some unseen force and the oppressive silence returned, strong as ever._

Why me? Why am I here? Why won't anybody tell me anything? I never did anything to deserve this! Never!

…

…

…

Did I?

_Eyes closed, the patient strained to remember, tried to search through memories that were hidden beneath a thick, white fog. Nothing. The fog was too thick, the memories hidden too deep for anything to present itself._

I hate this room. I hate this damned room. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT! WHY ARE YOU KEEPING ME HERE?

_The patient knew beyond all doubt that the people in white were watching. Waiting. Analyzing. Somehow, they could see. Somehow, they could hear. Somehow, they _knew _everything. But still, the patient spoke aloud, if only to hear the sound of a voice._

All right. Whoever's out there, I know you want me alive. I know you don't want me to get hurt. Or at least, I know that you don't want me to hurt myself. You didn't seem to give two shits when that psycho was shocking me before. But you didn't let me die. And before that, you didn't let me hurt myself. Those men came and stopped me.

I bet that if I do something to hurt myself, those men will have to come back again. After all, you wouldn't want me dying on you. Wouldn't want to have to clean up my dead carcass, would you? Of course not. So when those men come back, I'll be getting some answers. And if they don't come back? Well...I guess that means that I'll…

…

…

…

I'll see you sons of bitches in hell!

_The patient chuckled, wishing that whatever the Watchers were using to see the room was visible. The patient wanted to give the Watchers the best possible show, allow them to have the best view of everything that was about to happen. Finding no sign of cameras or anything of the sort, the patient sighed, disappointed._

Hope you all have a nice front-row seat for all of this.

_The patient smiled, and then, mouth open quite wide, rammed a finger down, down, down into the throat. The gag reflex hit immediately, and acidic bile flowed up the throat, into the mouth. The patient doubled over, retching as the vomit spewed across the white tile floor, tainting the white with a watery brown-yellow._

Uhhrrgh…. You guys gonna come and stop me yet or do I need to keep going?

_The patient waited to hear any sign of the Watchers. All was quiet._

OK. Fine. Here we go again.

_Again, finger into throat, choking, choking, gagging, doubled over retching, but dry this time. The patient coughed, willing an empty stomach to produce something to show for the effort. Nothing. Absolutely nothing._

Goddamn it! You'd…you'd better come and stop me before…before I….

_The patient dry retched again and dissolved into a coughing fit. The patient forced words through the short, barking coughs._ Before I—_cough_—try—_cough_—something else!

_With a growl, the patient rubbed hands through the warm vomit, spreading it, smearing it against the walls, painting over the cold, uncaring white._

Who would have thought…I love interior decorating! Don't you? I think this white is boring! So damn boring! A nice little paint job is just what this God awful room needs, don't you think?

_There was still no sign of the Watchers coming to take the patient away. With a furious howl, the patient began to scratch wildly, fingernails digging into flesh and raising red trails in their wake._

You'd better come and get me out of here, you asses! Come and stop me now!

_Over and over the fingernails dug into biceps and forearms, until the blood trickled in thick, warm streams. Hands smeared red, the patient began to paint the walls, wanting to blot out every last inch of that glaring white._

AREN'T YOU GOING TO COME AND SAVE ME? LET'S SEE YOU COME AND STOP ME NOW! WHAT'RE YOU WAITING FOR? HUH? COME AND GET ME! HAHAHA_haha_haha….

* * *

_April 17th. Third test run both revealing and disturbing. Patient inflicted substantial damage to arms, required seventeen stitches to properly close wounds. Administered significantly higher dosage of narcotic drugs; patient not expected to awaken for at least two days. Physician recommends use of restraints during next test run to ensure that wounds heal effectively, however restraints are _not _to be used. Next test run to begin immediately upon patient's awakening._

_

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **Well, that was disturbing, no? Such are horror stories! And yes, once again, I have managed to write an entire chapter without mentioning anything about the "patient's" name, looks, age, or gender! For anybody out there dying to know who the "patient" really is, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait until the end of this story to know for sure. Next chapter I will start dropping subtle (or at least _I_ think they're subtle) hints to who it is, but I'm not out and out saying the name until the very end. Aren't I cruel? )

Thanks to shadowwaker, Kagome Igurashi, YO!, Gijinka Renamon, Karimaru, Silently Broken, Einna, Hiro.P, Aura Phoenix, crimsondarkwaters, Duelchick901, Lindsey and Leila the BMGs, and DemonAlphaWolfKidNE for reviewing the last chapter! All of your feedback (and guesses!) are much appreciated!

Also, to Einna: I have never heard of Spiral-Suiri no Kizuna...I hope that this story doesn't sound too much like something from it. If it does, thenit's a coincidence. (Hmmm...now I'm going to have to go and find out more about Spiral-Suiri no Kizuna!)


	4. April 20

I'm awake. Damn. And I'm still in this room. Damn. And those assholes cleaned up the floor and walls. _Damn! _And—and what the hell is on my arms?

_The patient glanced down and was surprised to discover that his arms were wrapped with white, medical gauze. Curiously, experimentally, he poked at the bandages._

Ouch. Heh. Guess I really did a number on myself back there if they still hurt this much. Jesus, I didn't mean to do anything that serious. Wait a second…

…

…

…

Oh, shit. God_damn _it! I still didn't get any answers!

Well, you guys are real organized. I'll give you that. You obviously don't want me to know what's going on around here. Letting me knock myself out before you came to get me…that was a real stroke of genius, you know. After all, you wouldn't want me to see any of you again. Not after that first time anyways. Because I'll ask questions and you all know it. But you know what? None of that justifies you sons of bitches locking me in here completely alone with NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL ANY OF THIS IS ALL ABOUT!

…

…

…

You…you want to know what it is about you guys that really pisses me off? I hope so, because I'm going to tell you straight out. You guys don't play fair. Seriously. You bring me here to this piece of shit room and you lock me in here and then you sit there _watching _me from somewhere where I won't be able to see you. Yes, I know you're watching me. Or maybe you're just listening. I don't know. I don't really give a shit. The point is, I know that you know what I'm doing and I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't know when you're listening and when you're not, so I can't really talk to you. I can't see you, so I don't know who the hell any of you are. And I sure as hell can't get close enough to any of you assholes to actually hurt you.

So there you go. You guys are a bunch of cowards who don't play fair. And you know what? That REALLY PISSES ME OFF!

_The patient could restrain his rage no longer. With a vengeful growl, he drove his fist into one of the white walls. A dull "thud" echoed through the room and a staggering pain erupted across his knuckles and shrieked down his arm. He smiled, welcoming the pain as something that was real, something that he and only he had the power to control._

_He laughed and rammed his fist against into the wall a second time, and then a third. His knuckles split and bled and left a series of red dots on the white wall._

_The patient smiled, pleased with his handiwork and hit the wall once more, just for good measure. He stood back and eyed the blood-spattered wall, positively beaming._

This is one thing you bastards can't take away from me. This is the _one thing_ that YOU DON'T HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER!

_The patient gasped, horrified and clutched at his bleeding hand, realizing too late that now the Watchers would _find _a way to control it. Oh, they wouldn't necessarily need to find it right away. Why would they?All that mattered was thatsooner or later, even this last tiny thread of control that the patient held over his own life would be destroyed._

_He felt as though he had lost a wonderful treasure. With a defeated sigh, he sank down to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest._

It's not fair….

…

…

…

IT'S NOT FAIR! YOU BASTARDS! IT'S NOT FAIR; IT'S NOT FAIR; IT'S NOT FAIR! I…I…I hate…you…all….

…

…

…

* * *

_April 20th. Fourth test run complete. Very interesting indeed. Patient appears to have a deeply psychological need to feel "in control." Perhaps in part because patient was raised in a home without two parental figures present? This need to feel "in control" may explain motivation behind certain actions; however further study must be conducted in order to obtain conclusive proof. Currently administering controlled amounts of anesthetic drugs every three hours, to ensure that the patient remains asleep until next test run, scheduled to commence in one week._

_

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **Well, there you have it. Another chapter, hot off the presses! If all goes as planned, there will be five more chapters to this story. In the meantime, feel free to leave me reviews / guesses / constructive crticism!

Thanks to Silently Broken, the nameless, shadowwaker, Karimaru, Hiro.P, and Angela for reviewing the last chapter!


	5. April 30

This room again. Why did it have to be this room again? Why, you _bastards?_ Goddamn.

…

…

…

You know what? I give up. Yeah, you heard right. I said 'I give up.' You guys win. If you really don't want me to know what all of this is about, that's fine. It's not like I can _do_ anything about it, anyways.

I'm just going to sit here. Right here in this corner. I'm not going to move. I'm not going to yell or scream or freak out. There's not really much of a point to any of that anymore. Nope, I'm not going to do anything. Just sit here in this shitty little room nice and calm-like. That's all I'm gonna do. See? Just like this.

Heh. I don't _care _anymore. Because no matter what happens, no matter what I do, I'll always wake up in this little…white…room…

…

…

…

So why did you guys pick white, anyways? Because it's boring? Blank? Bright? Clean?

_The patient began to dreamily rub his hands over the floor, back and forth, back and forth, as though polishing the cold, white tile._

Yeah, I bet that's exactly why you guys decided to paint this room white. Nice and clean. Because who would stick a guest in a dirty room? Not you guys, that's for sure.

_Back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, polishing the tile, wanting it to gleam, gleam like a mirror, because then…then…THEN…_

So here I am in this nice, clean room. Heh. You guys even cleaned all the blood off the walls from last time. That's all right, I guess. All those dots all over the place really looked stupid, you know. Like the walls had chicken pox or some dumb shit like that.

…_then, when the tile gleamed as brightly as a mirror, he would be able to see himself, see his hair, his eyes, his nose, mouth, face, and then he'd remember…_

I guess what I'm trying to say here is…well…thanks. For taking such great care of me, I mean. You really seem to go the extra mile to make sure that everything is nice and clean, just for me.

…_if he could just see his face, he'd remember everything. Who he was, how he'd gotten here…perhaps even…_

The only complaint I've got is that I'm getting kind of…uh…what's the nice way to say this? Scrawny. See, these pants used to fit me and now…well, they're just about ready to fall off.

…_perhaps he would even remember who the Watchers were. If he could remember that, then everything would be all right._

Come to think of it, I don't remember eating anything since I got here. I don't know how long I've been here, but I'm betting it's been a pretty long time. I don't know how you guys are keeping me alive without feeding me, but I'd really appreciate some food. Oh, and something to drink while we're at it.

_Back and forth, back and forth, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, faster, faster he rubbed his hands over the tile._

I'm not asking for lobster and caviar here. Actually, _don't_ bring me caviar if you can help it. I don't think I'd like that very much. I'd be happy with…oh…some pizza? Yeah, pizza sounds great. I don't even care what you put on it. Well, as long as you don't stick any of those little fish thingies on it. Those things are just nasty.

_His palms began to grow red and tender, but he didn't stop, because soon he would be able to SEE!_

What are those things called? An…an…aw, Jesus, I know it starts with an "a." Uh…

_His skin began to tear away._

ANCHOVIES! That's what they are. Yeah. Don't stick any anchovies on that pizza, OK? Now let's talk about drinks….

_Blood began to smear over the white tiles, blotting out their dull shine, and still, he rubbed._

Pop is good. Any kind. Or milk. Or water. Or even beer. I don't care. Just make sure that whatever you bring me is nice and cold.

_The floor was stained with great blotches of crimson, effectively hiding any reflection that the patient may have been able to see in the shine of the tiles. Yet strangely enough…_

Anyways, I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I just don't really want to lose any more weight. OK?

…_he could see…_

Thanks a bunch. And yeah. That about does it for now.

…_so much more through the red than just his face, just his memories…_

This is the guy in the little white room saying thanks for watching our program and be sure to tune in next time for more bitching and moaning.

…_for in the red was _something_ so important, so true, yet so fleeting he was unable to grasp it._

Talk to you sons of bitches later.

_Next time, he would need more…_

Goodnight.

…_and then, all would most certainly be made clear.

* * *

_

_April 30th. Fifth test run very strange indeed. Patient appeared to be quite sane and docile in speech. However, patient also inflicted significant damage to both hands. It is not yet understood whether this episode of self-mutilation was done consciously or subconsciously. Either way, it is an obvious sign of mental deterioration…a result of removing "control" from the patient's hands? Further research must be conducted to fully understand this patient's mental condition. Next test run to begin within the next week._

_

* * *

_

**Author's Notes:** Happy New Year, everybody! Hope you all enjoyed this new chapter. The next chapter is just about ready to go, so it'll be up soon.

Thanks to shadowwaker, DemonAlphaWolfKidNE, Hiro.P, Karimaru, Silently Broken, Silvershadowfire, mandapandabug, Flame Swordswoman, the nameless, TheWyldeWestWynd, and Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru for all of your reviews! You guys are great!


	6. May 5

No pizza, huh? That's OK, I guess. I didn't really expect any of you jackasses to actually listen to me. Would've been nice, though.

You know what? I bet you assholes are sitting there slurping away on big, steaming mugs of coffee right now. I bet you're all chowing down on a big box of donuts while you sit there watching me starve. They're probably cream-filled, too. Vanilla cream-filled donuts. Mmm….

I bet you sons of bitches are sitting in some little dark room, staring at your little TV monitors or whatever the hell you're using to watch me with your goddamned beady little eyes and saying, "Uh-huh…_interesting! _Boy oh boy, isn't this kid something else?" Like I'm some bug under a slide that you're about to dissect or something. Wait a second…

…

…

That's it. That's it, isn't it? That's what you assholes do to me every time I fall asleep, isn't it? You…you cut me open so you can _look _at me, don't you? So you can _put _things inside of me. That's why there aren't any cameras in here with me, or any microphones or…or...anything. All that shit is inside of me, isn't it? _Isn't it?_

Well, that's going to stop RIGHT NOW! I'm not going to let you goddamned sons of bitches plant that shit inside of me! No siree BOB!

_Frantically, the patient began to scratch at the pinkish scars that traced his arms. The newly-healed skin grew tender and painful, but the old wounds remained steadfastly closed._

You…YOU SONS OF BITCHES! YOU SHIT-BRAINED BASTARDS! YOU CUT MY GODDAMN FINGERNAILS JUST SO I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO GET RID OF YOUR DAMNED BUGS, DIDN'T YOU? _DIDN'T YOU?!?_

_Screaming, sobbing, panicking, he tore at the weakened flesh._

I DON'T WANT YOUR BUGS, DAMN IT!

_The flesh became red and raw and finally began to bleed in response to the persisting irritation. The patient jammed his fingers deep into the open wounds, digging for something metallic, something foreign, anything strange or abnormal._

YOU WON'T BE LISTENING OR…watching…me anymore….

_Blood welled past his fingers, boiling from the deep gash in his arm to drip to the floor._

No more watching.

_And as the crimson puddle grew, feeding off his life force and blotting away the white gleam of the tile floor, a revelation came._

No more KNOWING everything.

_It was the _something _he had seen, the _something _that had been so very, very important, so true, the _something _that he had been unable to grasp, but oh, it was clear now. So clear._

No…more…

_It was a way to defeat the Watchers, a simple yet enormous way to escape from them once and for all._

...watching…

_The patient smiled, soothed by this new, beautiful knowledge and closed his eyes._

…me….

_There was a door….

* * *

_

_May 5th. Sixth test run enlightening, albeit disturbing. Patient shows marked signs of mental deterioration (paranoia, self-mutilation, possible hallucination, psychosis, etc.). Inflicted serious damage to arms; surgical procedures were necessary to ensure proper healing. Minor blood transfusions also administered. Use of restraints for next test run highly recommended. Next test run postponed an additional week to allow patient to heal and rest.

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **Well, here's yet another chapter for your reading pleasure! The next chapter might not be posted until Thursday because (a) I'm going to be without internet access for a few days, and (b) I haven't written it yet! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks to Karimaru, Hiro.P, shadowwaker, mandapandabug, Tsurugi-no-Benigasumi, and Silently Broken for reviewing the last chapter!

To Tsurugi-no-Benigasumi: I haven't read "The Ashwater Experiment".... I guess I'll have to read it sometime!


	7. May 17

I know you're there. I can feel you watching me. I can feel those bugs working inside me now that I know they're there. You want to know what it feels like? Because I can tell you exactly how it feels.

It feels like…

_The patient smiled, eyes shifting into a dreamy, unfocused glaze. Laughter bubbled from his lips, a strange, growling chuckle that began deep in his throat._

It…hehe…it tickles. It's like—haha—when your foot falls asleep. Hehehe. You know how before it starts to hurt, it—hehehe—it tickles? It's like that. HahahaHA!

You…you…haha…oh God, it really does tickle! You want to know something really…something really funny? I know a secret. That's right.

_He snorted, trying to hold back his laughter, and then his voice adopted a sing-song tone as he said, _I know something you don't know; I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON'T KNOW!

But you know what? I'm not going to tell you. Because you'll find out. You'll just keep _putting _things in me until you find out. But I'll never tell you myself. Never, ever, ever, ev—what in the hell is THIS?

_The patient flexed his arms, only now realizing that he was unable to move them freely. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, too horrified to speak for the moment. His horror quickly turned to anger, and then to rage as he regarded his securely restrained arms._

A straightjacket? A goddamned straightjacket? You…you bastards! Shit, you think I'm crazy? You sons of bitches! YOU REALLY THINK I'M CRAZY?!? SON OF A _BITCH! _I'm not. You hear me? I'm not crazy. I'M NOT CRAZY!

…

…

…

You bastards what to know who's crazy? I'll tell you exactly who's crazy. It's you. All of you bastards out there planting all that shit inside of me and keeping me locked in this goddamned room to rot! YOU'RE THE ONES WHO SHOULD BE IN STRAIGHTJACKETS, GODDAMN IT! NOT ME!

_With an angry howl, the patient threw himself against one of the spotlessly white walls of his prison. The shock of the impact was enough to cause him to fall back, cracking his head against the tile floor painfully. He leapt to his feet to slam his body against the wall a second, and then a third time, his rage dulling the pain._

Goddamned sons of bitches! I'll kill every last one of you for this! You hear me? I'LL KILL YOU, GODDAMNN IT!

_Over and over he smashed himself into the walls of his prison, tears of fury spilling down his cheeks._

It's not fair; it's not fair; IT'S NOT FAIR!

_It _wasn't _fair. For with his arms restrained as they were, he would not be able to escape the Watchers. He was helpless; completely at their mercy._

Why, why, why, why, WHY, WHY?!? WHY DID YOU DO THIS? WHY?!?

_Or was he? As he threw his body into the wall again, and again, and again, a startling new realization dawned on him._

You assholes….

_He did not need to use his _arms _to escape the Watchers._

I won't let you win.

_All he needed was…_

YAAAAAAH!

_With a hoarse cry, he lurched forward to ram his face into the wall once, twice, three times. Something cracked wetly under the force of the third blow, and he tasted blood in his mouth._

YOU WON'T BEAT ME!

_Again, he slammed his face into the wall. Pain exploded across his face and lights flashed behind his eyes. But as the blood oozed from his broken nose and dribbled from his mouth, he smiled…_

I'm gonna win.

…_he smiled because now he was close, so close._

So screw you. All of you.

_The door was there, closer than last time. All he needed to do was go through it and then…_

You all suck ass.

…_then he would be free._

Goodnight.

_Next time…yes, next time, he would make it._

* * *

_May 17th. Seventh test run confirms current trend: patient's mental deterioration is progressing steadily. Patient reacted quite strongly to the introduction of restraints. This negative reaction coincides with earlier theories about psychological need for control. Most interesting…. Next test run will commence immediately upon patient's awakening.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **I'm baaaaaack! Hmmm...what can I say? Poor, dear, insane little.... Nope, not going to say yet! I'm sadistic, I know. Don't worry, we're getting close to the end now, so you'll all find out soon enough. 

Thanks to Flame Swordswoman, Duelchick901, the nameless, Hiro.P, mandapandabug, Isumo1489, Karimaru, Silently Broken, Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru, shadowwaker, DemonAlphaWolfKidNE, and Gijinka Renamon for all your reviews / guesses!


	8. May 19

Urrrrgh…

…

…

…

What—

_The patient bit his question short with a miserable whimper as the left side of his face erupted with white pain. He lay still, drawing short, shaky breaths in…and out…and in…and out…as the pain slowly subsided to a dull ache._

_His mouth was filled with a coppery tang, and he shivered, recognizing the taste of blood. Carefully, he probed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, searching for what was bleeding. He was quite surprised when his tongue slipped into a gap between two teeth and he felt his gums, warm and painfully tender. It took his pain-fogged mind to understand that his upper left canine tooth was missing._

_Slowly, he brought a shaking hand to his left cheek, gingerly running his fingers over the swollen, bruised skin. What had hurt? He wet his rough, dry lips as he tried to remember. Had it been his jaw? Or was it the cheekbone that had sent the needles of agony screaming through his head? He shuddered, unable to recall where the pain had come from, but knowing beyond doubt that _something _was broken._

_He continued to explore his face, fingers clumsily finding scabs, swelling, tenderness everywhere._

_What had happened? He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember how he had come to be in such a sorry state._

_There were things—bugs—inside of him…he'd been bound, unable to move his arms…. There had been a door…_

…

…

…

_Yes, the door. The door that would allow him to prevail over his unseen tormentors…the door that would grant him freedom—dear God how could he have forgotten about THE DOOR? It was such an important thing to remember that—PAIN!!!_

_White pain erupted as his fingers struck upon his broken nose, blinding him as it slashed through his head. White pain like the ceiling, the walls, the tiles of his prison. His white prison. Everything so clean and white, white, white, WHITE, WHITE, WHITE! EVERYWHERE WAS WHITE!_

YAAAAAAH! Got to get out, out OUT!

_He beat his hands on the floor and rambled on._

OUT…I WANT OUT! LET ME GO YOU SONS OF BITCH BASTARDS!

_Tears pricked his eyes and he moaned wretchedly as the left side of his face went numb with pain._

_He had to…had to find the door. Had to get out now, now, now, now, NOW! Had to beat the Watchers RIGHT NOW!_

_With a scream, he began to beat at his own face._

I'm getting out of here! Getting out! NOW! AAARRRRGH!

_He could see the door…it was a deep, rich black. It was so beautiful…so beautiful it made him want to laugh and cry all at once._

I…I win…hahaha…haha….

_He was close…closer than last time, even. Almost close enough to reach the handle…almost…._

_Something horrible zapped through his body, racing through his veins and fizzing in his blood. Pain…but…but no. It was…God, what was it? He knew. He knew because he'd felt it before. It was…it was…_

…

…

…

_Electricity…? Yes. That was it. It was the Watchers…their bugs wereshocking him. The door began stretch away, falling down, down, down into an endless expanse of nothing. So far, far away that he could not even see it anymore._

No…no…no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NOOOOO!

_The Watchers…they KNEW! They KNEW about his door! And their bugs—their bugs would never let him reach it._

NOOOOoooooo…

…

…

…

* * *

_May 19th. Eighth test run short, but marginally informative. Patient is now in advanced state of mental deterioration. Caused further damage to face, in spite of electric shock conditioning. This tendency towards self-injury is clearly deeply rooted in the patient's psyche. Indicative of neglect / abuse during childhood? Further inquiries pertaining to the patient's upbringing are needed. Next test run to commence in two weeks, to allow patient adequate time to heal / rest. _

_

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **Sorry this took a little longer to post than usual. I just learned how to use photoshop, so I've been drawing and coloring like mad for the past couple of days. Anyways, next chapter will be the last, and as promised, I will be revealing the identity of "the patient!" In the meantime, feel free to comment or take some final guesses.... 

Thanks to Flame Swordswoman, shadowwaker, the nameless, Silvershadowfire, Hiro.P, mandapandabug, Boomer0X, Silently Broken, DemonAlphaWolfKidNE, Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru, Pyro, Enlightening, and Karimaru for reviewing the last chapter! All your comments / guesses are much appreciated!


	9. June 2

_In and out…in and out…in…and…out…._

_The patient breathed shallowly_ in _through his nose…and then _out _through his mouth. He was careful to keep the rhythm slow and steady; always slow and steady, never changing._

_In…out…._

_His left arm was beginning to feel strangely heavy and numb; the feeling of old blood pooling, of muscles growing weak for want of oxygen…the limb was falling asleep._

_He wanted to move, to obey his body's instinct to take his weight off the arm. He wanted it to stop hurting, goddamn it, but moving was out of the question._

_In…out…._

_Yes, moving was much too dangerous. Even more dangerous than allowing that rhythm to change, or—heaven forbid!—opening his eyes. Because once the rhythm changed, once his muscles began to twitch, once his eyes opened, the bugs would send them the word loud and clear: "He's awake, he's awake, he's awake, he's awake…." And if THEY knew…if THEY knew…well, then he would lose before he'd even begun._

_In…out…._

_So he lay still, cheek pressed against the cold tile floor of his awful white prison. He kept still to fool THEM. He kept still to fool their bugs. But most importantly, he kept still to buy himself time. Precious, precious time that belonged to him and him alone. Time to think, time to plan, time to form a strategy that would allow him to finally defeat the Watchers. Time._

_In…out…._

_Faint memories danced through his mind, fleeting glimpses of faces, snatches of conversation, but he paid them no mind. These memories could not help him now; they were insignificant as wisps of smoke in fog._

_In…out…._

_There had been a time once, not so very long ago when he would have been incapableof maintainingthis still, calm silence. A time when he had been…happy? No, happy wasn't quite the word to describe it. Content. Yes, content. He had been content._

_In…out…._

_The rhythm was smooth and effortless as a plan slowly emerged through the haze in his brain. But still, he did not move, not even to relieve the terrible pain in his arm. When he acted, it would be fast. So fast the Watchers would not be able to stop him. So fast even the bugs wouldn't know what to do. That was the way to do things…quick and decisive._

_In…out…._

_Now was the time to do it. He may never again have such a chance. No, never again. It was time to escape now. NOW! DO IT NOW!_

_In…out…._

_The patient leapt to his feet in one graceful motion, agile as a cat. He could feel the bugs inside him waking up, but they were slow and sluggish—they would not prevent his escape this time._

_In…out…in, out…._

_Without a sound, he ripped at his wrists with bony fingers, pulling away flesh, seeking the warmth of the blood that flowed so close beneath the surface._

_In, out, in, out…._

_He dug deep, tearing veins, feeling the thick, sticky liquid pour over his hands. So much of it…so very, very much._

_In, out, in, out…._

_The bugs were awake now. He could feel them tingling inside him, readying themselves to shock, to jolt, to force him back to his hellish prison. But they were too late. He was at the door._

_Inoutinoutinoutinout…._

_He took the polished silver knob in his hand. It was pleasingly warm to the touch. He opened the door._

_Inoutinout…._

_He paused, halfway through, one foot in freedom, one still in his white prison, and smiled. In a calm, even voice, he stated, _I win.

_And with that, he stepped through the door into beautiful freedom._

_Inoutin, out, in…out…._

…

…

…

* * *

_June 2nd. Ninth test run complete. Patient's behavior confirmed most theories (mental deterioration, psychological predisposition towards self-injury, etc.). More research would have been required to insure all actions / mannerisms corresponded to current theories, but further test runs are not possible, as patient is now deceased. As par normal, patient's records are to be carefully studied, noted, and then destroyed.

* * *

_

Patient 58M

Name: Katsuya Jounouchi

DOB: 1/25/87

Current age: 17

Hair: Blond

Eyes: Brown

Height: 5' 10"

Weight: 137 lbs—_lost significant amount of weight during the program—final weight: 105 lbs_

Family:

Father—Hiroshi Jounouchi, deceased

Mother—Umeka Kawai

Sister—Shizuka Kawai

--Was convicted as criminally insane following a sixteen month trial involving the murder of Hiroshi Jounouchi (patient's father). Recommended for program by the Domino City court of law following the trial.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, there you have it. Last chapter. I'm a sadistic freak, I know. I will (hopefully)be posting a new chapter on Starstruck sometime in the near future now that this little monster is out of my head. 

A couple of interesting (or boring?) sidenotes:

1) Originally, this wasn't meant to be fan fiction at all. However, after I wrote the first few entries, the attitude I'd given my character fit Jou so well that I couldn't resist!

2) Most of the "clues" and "hints" I dropped really weren't all that helpful. Or at least, I don't think they were. If you went purely on the hard facts I'd presented, it could have been just about anybody. Seto, Ryou, Yugi, Malilk and Jounouchi were definitely some of the more sensible picks, but there were other people that would have fit, too. Truth be told, I toyed with the idea of making the patient be Rishid (Odion). I also seriously considered Amelda (Alister). But in the end, I decided to go with Jou because (a) the patient's personality fit Jou the best, and (b) he was the one I'd originally decided to write this thing about in the first place!

And now, without further ado, I'd like to say thank you to Flame Swordswoman, shadowwaker, mandapandabug, Silently Broken, DemonAlphaWolfKidNE, TheWyldeWestWynd, Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru, enlightening, Meant2Live, silverwolf-bakura13, Karimaru, Hiro.P, crowkeeper990, and the nameless for reviewing the last chapter!


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